Fate of life
by Lilithakaducky
Summary: In the training of a Saint, no mistakes are allowed and every inattention is punished severely. Please R/R ^_^
1. Prolog

Authors note:  

I read quite a number of fanfics so far. It seems that most fans writing fics seem to agree on certain things, that are only hint at in the series. Like Camus being Milo's best friend, or Saori being in love with Seiya. I read a great fic from Seiiruika, about Camus past, in which he is the distant being, he seems to be in the series from a very early age on. Now others had the idea -- What if that was not the case? What if Camus was just an ordinary kid, who became so distant and cold because of the fates he had to face while growing up?

So I decided to write another fic with that background. 

I know, that very probably, there will be people who won't like him the way I describe him, but I don't intend to offend Camus' character. 

Warning: I run through about every cliché possible here, so be aware :-D Also will there be some minor cursing.

I dedicate this fic to Stayka, the great Camus-fan. 

Stayka, I hope you like it. Even though I don't character Camus as you may like him.

The characters of Saint Seiya don't belong to me. I write for fun and don't make any money. 

Thanks to Kaos and Pseudo for being such a great help in proofing and to my dear sis Cygny who is always helping me in every way possible. 

**                Fate of life**

Prologue:

The little boy stood at the rusty railing of the old freighter. His face was pulled into a pensive frown, as he glanced at the coast, which started to take form through the mist. This was it. Siberia. The land, in which from now on he would be living. 

A cold gust of wind hit his body and ruffled his semi-length hair. Absently, he pushed back one indigo strand, which the wind had blown into his face. Camus didn't mind the biting cold of this country. He never had been bothered with the cold and had always enjoyed the winters of northern France, where he had been born and lived happily until the day his mother had died in a car-accident.

That had been two years ago, soon after he had turned five. After that fateful day, he had lived in an orphanage. Although living there hadn't been the best of lives, it had not been bad either. But it had been nothing compared to the life he had lived with his mother. 

He sighed out loud in near desperation. He wouldn't do it again, he told himself. Hang onto his happy life before the accident. His past was over and he would look forward to his future -- If only he had an idea what his future would be.

One of the nurses at the orphanage had come to him two weeks ago and told him that a Russian man had adopted him. Strange enough, Camus had never seen his new foster father. Normally no one could adopt a kid, whom they had never met and spent some time with before. The French law was pretty strict on that. And for a foreigner to adopt a French boy and take him to his country was even rarer. But Camus knew that the orphanage had been in pretty big debts and thus, shortly before closing down. And then suddenly, they got this big donation from an unknown source. Camus had an idea, where that money had come from. He was not stupid. He well understood that laws could always be bent with the right amount of money. But as to why this unknown Russian had been so adamant about adopting him, he had no clue of.

His gaze wandered back to the shore, which became more distinct as they approached. The land that presented itself now, looked hostile and was covered with a thick layer of snow.

He remembered having seen pictures of Siberia before, and in most of them were big forests and beautiful landscapes. But here, the landscape looked nothing like that. There were no signs of any civilisation and thick icebergs floated in the water around them. He had more the impression to be in Antarctica than Siberia. 

Still deep in thoughts, he didn't notice the sailor who approached him from behind, but as the man said something to him in a loud, unfriendly voice, the French boy jerked back startled, and stared at the sailor in surprise. The man talked again, but Camus had no idea what the words spoken to him meant. He spoke only French and the Russian language that people talked around here, sounded alien to his ears.

The sailor spoke again and pointed his finger towards the part of the ship where Camus' sleeping quarter was located. In the time Camus had had been on the ship, he had learned that the sailors didn't like him getting in their way and so he figured out the meaning of the order that the man gave him. He sighed again and turned to walk towards the small room, he had been given. 

He wondered if his new foster-parents spoke French at least. It was very unsettling not to be able to talk to or understand the people around him. The plane flight to Russia from France had not been that bad, considering. The stewardesses had been friendly at least, but then one of them had brought him to this freighter where the sailors didn't seem to feel obligated to make his journey enjoyable at all.

Finally he reached his room, entered and sat down on the bed with slumped shoulders. On the small nightstand beside his bed lay a faded photo of a laughing, green-haired woman. He took it in his hand and stared at it, tears in his eyes.

"Maman", he whispered. "I miss you. I have never felt so alone in my life. Please, don't make my new home and foster-family be as hostile as those other Russian people aboard."

He fought the tears and the stinging pain in his chest for a while, before he lay down and curled in on himself, while he sobbed silently.

                                             *************************

A loud banging on the door and a shouting voice woke him up. Camus blinked sleepy and sat up. With puzzlement he saw the photo of his mother still in his hands, but it took him a split-second until his memory came back. 

He had been crying and must have fallen asleep while doing so. And now it seemed that the boat was about to anchor along the shore. Otherwise, he would not have been woken. 

Camus carefully placed the photo in his pocket and pulled the duffle bag from under his bed. He didn't have many belongings and all of them fit in the small duffel bag, he now swung over his shoulder.

He got off his bed and left the tiny room without a look back. 

As soon as he entered the gangway, he realised that it was more populated than usual. They must have arrived already.

He followed the corridor and stepped out on the deck. As he had already guessed, the ship lay on the small Port of an equally small town, and people were hastily loading and unloading big bags and crates. 

Camus stared a little bit lost at the commotion on the Port. What now? Would somebody come pick him up? Maybe his new family?

"Hey!" 

The cheery voice behind him made him turn his head. A few meters behind him stood another child, maybe a little bit older than him, who was smiling at him. Camus frowned and studied the other kid. It was hard to tell if it was a boy or girl, because the blond hair was so short and the wicked gleam in the others eyes looked too mischievous to be a girls, but the face and the big dark blue eyes where very feminine. The other kid said something in Russian again and held the hand towards him in greeting. Camus didn't understand the words, but the voice of the stranger sounded too feminine to be a boy's. At first a tiny frown marred the strange girl's delicate features because Camus didn't react to her greetings, but then she laughed, as she seemed to understand.

"Camus?" she asked with a smile. 

Camus nodded.

She pointed her finger at her own chest and said "Anja."

Camus couldn't help but to smile back at her and extend his own hand in greeting. She took it in a strong handshake and laughed, while she said something in Russian again. 

Again Camus didn't understand her, so she just took his hand and led him away. Camus had no idea who the girl was, but she seemed to know who he was. So he followed her. She led him off the ship and walked, with him in tow, along some old, snow-covered streets.

Finally they left the small town and Anja went straight to a wooden shed outside the village. As they arrived by the front door, she let go of his hand and fished in her pocket for a silvery, old looking key, which she inserted in the lock of the shed. The door opened with a groaning sound and Anja stepped into the semi dark room, only to appear again a few seconds later, pushing a heavy motor sleigh. She then turned around to lock the door of the shed again.

Camus eyed the vehicle suspiciously. He had once heard that riding those was pretty difficult and he couldn't imagine a little girl driving it. As if to prove him wrong, Anja swung one leg over the saddle and started the motor, as if she'd never done anything else in her life. She pulled some heavy, furred gloves over her hands and looked up at him. Again, she spoke some words in Russian and pointed at the seat directly behind her. Camus hesitated for a second, but then took the seat, arranging his duffel on his back.

Anja waited patiently until he sat right and had a good grip, before she let the sleigh speed forwards.

About two hours later, they reached another village. This one was even smaller than the first. But Anja didn't stop the sleigh and steered it around the poor looking houses, as she passed the village. They only rode for about twenty minutes more, before she stopped the sleigh in front of a rather small cottage. Camus descended the sleigh and rubbed absently at his cold, stiff hands while he scrutinized the cabin. 

This was it? He couldn't believe that this was what he would be calling home from now on. The man who had adopted him must be very rich, otherwise he would not have been able to pay so much to the orphanage, but this cottage looked not even big or comfortable enough for a vacations cabin. Surely they only stopped here deliver or pick up something.

He was still studying the little wooden house, as the front door opened and a tall man stepped out in the snow. Camus looked at the stranger who had long, light blue hair and very clear blue eyes. The man came slowly closer and sized him up and down with a stern face. 

Camus bit his lower lip, as he tried to read the man's cold eyes. Was that his foster-father? He had no idea, what he actually had expected, but certainly not a man whose whole expression and stance was this cold and unfriendly.

Tros of Aquarius studied the child in front of him. He had been told that his new pupil would arrive with the ship today and he had sent Anja to get the new one. 

This boy was older than his former pupils had been. He usually had never had a candidate for the clothes coming to him older than six, and even those had not lasted long. They either died or mostly, ran away. But as he held his eyes on the boy, he felt something different in this child. The indigo-haired kid seemed not to be intimidated by him, but held his gaze steadily, and with a curiosity and innocence that was so typical for any normal child, but so untypical for any orphan or Saint to be. The boys were usually shivering from the ride and very frightened when they arrived at the cottage. Tros had made it clear to Anja not to give them any additional protection to the cold than they already had themselves. He knew that his daughter didn't approve of the harsh methods to train new candidates, but she understood the necessity. More often than not, the boys had arrived with frostbite at the cottage, and about half of them gave up then and there.  

His gaze wandered down to the hands of the boy and to his surprised, was the only clue of the ride in the biting cold, a very slim pale shade on the skin, and the boy didn't seem to suffer at all from the cold. Curiously Tros activated his Cosmo and reached out to the child. As he touched the aura of the boy, the little one gasped in surprise and took a step back, his eyes wide open. Tros was more than puzzled. The boy had felt his Cosmo touching him? None who had not learned to activate his Cosmo was able to feel another's so clearly. But as he probed further he was really surprised. The boy had a Cosmo so strong, than he should have only after one maybe two years of training. 

"Have you been trained before?" he asked with a sever voice.

The little kid just glared at him with big, no understanding eyes.

"Aren't you going to answer me?" Tros asked impatiently.

"Papa, I think he doesn't understand Greek. Neither Russian for that matter", Anja interjected.

Tros looked first at his daughter and then back to the French boy.  "Your name is Camus, right?" he asked in French.

The boy, clearly surprised that Tros spoke his language, stared at him and then nodded slightly.

"Good", answered Tros. "My Name is Tros of Aquarius and from this day on, I will train you to be a Saint of Athena. If you work hard, you will have the honour to wear the cloth of Cygnus one day."

"Cloth? Saint?…", Camus echoed, clearly confused.

Tros narrowed his eyes. "You have been told, why you have been adopted and brought here, haven't you?"

Camus just shook his head. 

Tros sighed heavily. "I can't believe, you haven't been told a bit. And you don't even speak Greek." He studied the child dissatisfied. The searchers of Sanctuary were getting more and more devoid of scruples. The search for candidates for the cloths grew more and more desperate; the closer Athena's reincarnation came. Usually they prepared the children, and even let them decide if they wanted to gain a cloth and learn to fight. Nobody could be forced to become a good Saint. But then again, this boy was not like any he had ever seen before. His Cosmo was already elevated, without him even realizing it. Something like that was extremely rare and promised the boy to become a great Saint. Tros even doubted that Camus would be a good candidate for the Cygnus cloth. If the promising Cosmo, the boy had already developed, would evolve as Tros thought, Camus may very well be strong enough for the silver-crystal cloth. No. Sanctuary's searchers had had good reason to want this boy. He had been given a gift. And that gift, nobody had the right to reject. Maybe it had even been Athena herself, who had chosen this boy, and this took the right to decide for himself away from him.

"Listen, and listen good, for I will only say this once. You have been chosen. Chosen to become a warrior. You will learn incredible things here. I will teach you to do things with your body, which you would never have thought possible. You will learn to fight, and become one of the strongest beings of this world. But you will be expected to use your strength for the well being of this planet. You will fight for Athena and earth. The training will be hard, but if you do well, your reward will be worth it."

Camus' eyes still were wide open in amazement as he listened to the words of his teacher to be.

"From now on, I will not talk in French to you again, nor will I pay attention to anything you say in this language. When we train, we will speak Greek, and otherwise Russian. 

Anja will show you to your room now."

And with those cold words he turned and walked away.


	2. Chapter 1

**Two years later:**

Camus stood in front of the great ice wall, legs slightly parted and eyes closed.  He concentrated on his Cosmo and flared it brightly, before he pulled back his fist and delivered a well-calculated punch to the ice before him. His fist connected with the wall and the ice cracked instantly underneath as a small fissure snaked in a zigzag from his fist up and down before the ice splintered with a loud cracking noise, as the break widened into a big cleft in the ice. Satisfied, Camus looked at the hole, which had attained a size of several meters.

"Hey, what did that ice wall do to you?" he heard a mocking voice behind him. Surprised, he turned to see Anja approaching, clad in her thick coat. 

"Aren't you supposed to do some homework at home?" he asked with an accusing scowl.

"Oh come on. Don't give me that look. You look almost as serious as my papa uses to do."

Your father is a great Saint and an even better teacher, Anja", Camus protested.

Anja walked up to him, shrugging her shoulders. "Yes, maybe. But he is also my father and I think that he often takes his duty way too serious."

"The Saints are supposed to protect the world. I think this is a duty to be taken very seriously. Moreover, I think he is a very good father. He loves you very much."

She sighed. "I know. Sometimes I just wish he would show it a bit more often." She crossed her arms over her chest and her face lit up, as she seemed to dismiss the thoughts about her father. "What do you think about taking a break from training and go to check out the lands a bit? The polar bear we observed last year should soon come out of her cave, and I bet she has pups now."

Camus hesitated. "I'm not supposed to leave my training. Tros will be furious."

Anja laughed out loud at his words. "Don't be ridiculous. Papa lets you get away with a lot more than he has ever done the other pupils. You're a natural and he is very impressed with the progress you have already made. He won't kill you for that." Her voice lowered to a conspiring whisper. "C'mon, you can't train all the time. Sometimes you have to have some fun too."

Camus still hesitated. He really was tempted to spend some fun time with his friend, but he also took his duty very seriously. He had grown to respect his teacher very much and wanted to do everything in his power to have the Saint's respect in return.

But Anja took his decision from him as she grabbed him by his arm and pulled him with her. Of course, he was much stronger than the slightly older girl, but part of him wanted to go with her and so he didn't put up much resistance.

They ran across the snow-covered plains until they reached the spot, where the great polar bear had build her cave last fall.  Usually it would be pretty dangerous to have a female polar bear so close to humans, but Tros knew that Camus, as well as Anja, knew how to behave towards such beasts. The gold Saint wasn't into spoiling his daughter and preferred her to know to take care of herself. And for Camus? He wouldn't be fit to become a Saint in any case if he couldn't defend himself against a simple animal.

The two kids took cover behind a snow hill and glanced over its top at the field behind it. Twenty meters in front of them lay a small mound of snow. A bulging form, which looked clearly out of place in the white of the even land.

"She's still not out", whispered Camus.

"That's strange enough", answered Anja. "She is usually never that late." Anja had observed the bear for a few years already, since the beast always spent her winter rest in these surroundings. And ever since Camus had arrived in Siberia, she had found a friend who shared her likes for those little adventures.  Never had she liked any of the other pupils of her father as much as she liked the French boy -- Apart from the fact, that no other boy had lasted more than a few weeks anyway.

"Hey, Anja. Something is happening", Camus whispered excitedly. 

She leaned slightly forward to get a better look. Anja had always been amazed about his ability to see and hear things much earlier than she did. She concentrated on the pile of snow, but didn't see or hear anything for a couple of minutes, as, suddenly; a rasping sound could be heard. Some of the loose snow on the small bulge started to slide down on one side and come to a rest at its bottom. The layer of snow started to shiver slightly before a black nose broke through the white wall from the inside. The nose disappeared again, only to appear once more, followed by a massive white furred snout and head. 

The big bear blinked once with its small black eyes, before it broke completely out of the hidden cave, breaking trough the snow-covered entrance.

The bear stepped out into the crispy air and lifted its head high into the air to sniff at the cold wind. Only after it had seemingly approved of the security of the surroundings, did the animal relax, shaking her heavy, furred body. The snow that had caught in her pelt while breaking out of the cave, now flew out in the air like large snowflakes.

"Looks like Donut finally woke up," whispered Anja smiling.

Camus threw her a disapproving look." You're not going to stick to that stupid name."

Anja chuckled silently. "I have called her that way since the day I first saw her."

"It's a stupid name for a polar bear."

"But it fits her. Her ear looks like a perfect Donut."

Camus studied the left ear of the bear, which carried a big hole in its middle. An injury she had no doubt gotten in a fight with another bear. But still, he thought it to be a stupid thing to name an animal after a piece of bakery.

"Look, she really has young ones", Anja whispered excitedly.

As Anja had pointed out, a little white fur ball now stumbled out of the cave, followed by its identical looking sibling.

"Oh Camus. Aren't they adorable", she called out full of delight and a little too loud. The head of the big bear jerked up high and it turned its eyes towards them.

"Shhh, Anja. Be quiet, she will see us", Camus hissed, throwing her an angry look.

"Wrong", the girl said, while she got frantically to her feet. "She has seen us already!"

Camus' eyes darted back to look at the bear, which was no longer peacefully with her cubs, but trotted in their direction with a fast pace.

Camus got to his feet as fast as he could and followed Anja, who was already running down the hill. "Run Anja", he shouted as he caught up with her. Absently, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her with him. He took the luxury to throw one short look back. The bear had already reached the top of the hill, and was now not just trotting anymore, but running fast. Camus knew that they didn't stand a chance to outrun a grown polar bear, and even though he may yet be strong enough to defend himself against it, Anja stood no chance.

His thoughts ran wild. He let go of Anja's hand and gave her a slight shove, while he stopped his pace. "Keep up running. I'll try to delay her!" he yelled at the girl.

Anja knew better than to argue with Camus. If anyone of them could deal with the enraged mother bear, it was the French Saint-to-be.

She didn't look back, not even as she heard the painful, outraged roar of the polar bear, but kept up running as fast as she could through the snow. It didn't take long though for Camus to catch up with her, and running alongside with her again.

"What have you done?" Anja asked, panting.

"I froze her legs, but this will not stop her for long. We need to hide somewhere."

Unconsciously, Anja slowed her pace. "YOU DID WHAT?"

Camus grabbed her wrist again and pulled her along to make her keep up running. "We can talk about this later. Do you know where we could hide? We are never going to make it home."

"I have an idea. This way", she shouted and turned to the left. 

She led him towards a jagged ice field, where some of the ice pikes reached sharply into the sky. 

An angry roar behind them made them jerk around. The bear had already freed herself and was now running on their trace and catching up fast.

"Come here," Anja said and slit over a small ice block and towards a bigger. Camus followed her.

The bear was already so close that they could hear her panting, as Anja suddenly got down on her knees and crawled into a small hole in one of the bigger ice boulders. Camus followed her, and barely found the narrow hole big enough to get his body through. He was crawling through some kind of ice tunnel, which grew constantly bigger. After a few seconds he looked up to find himself in an ice cave, of about six-to-six meters in diameter.  Anja sat by one wall, catching her breath. "Donut shouldn't be able to pass the hole", she said between two breaths. As if on cue, they heard the angry roar of the bear, which saw herself cheated for her prey.

"What is this place?" Camus questioned, while he moved to her side and sat down too, his back against one of the ice walls.

"I found it about a week ago and came here a couple of times since then."

"And why didn't you tell me about it yet?" Camus asked a bit offended.

Anja made a sulking face. "I would have, if you wouldn't spend so much time in training. Sometimes I hardly see you, apart the time when we study."

Camus sighed. "And I should be training right now, as I remind you. Tros is going to be furious."

Suddenly Anja laughed out loud. "Don't be so silly. Didn't we have fun? No bear can take it on with us two. We're the perfect team?" She nudged him with her shoulder playfully.

Camus first looked at her with incredulous eyes, but then started to smile too. "We surely are." 

Camus knew that the bear would not be bent to leave very soon. It might easily wait for an hour or so, before it would be forced to go back to it's pups, and until then, the Aquarius Saint would have found out that he had left the training without permission. This meant that he was in for some severe punishment. But somehow, he just couldn't be too worried about that right now. He still felt the adrenalin in his veins from the little adventure they had just lived. Never before had he had a best friend like Anja, whom it was so much fun to be with. 

"So you claim that you have frozen the bears legs earlier?" Anja asked with raised eyebrows.

Camus nodded. "Yes."

"And how did you do that? I know my father can do it, but I never saw him teach it to you."

Camus shook his head. "He didn't really show me how to do it, but I observed him once perform this attack. But I think his freezing was much more efficient than mine."

Anja just stared at him with big eyes. "You're telling me, that you learned to do it just by watching my father? Wow. You're good."

Camus just gave her an innocent look. "I know." He stated dryly.

She snorted annoyed. "Oh come on you French toast. Stop being so full of yourself."

This time, Camus grinned at her. "Pest", he spat back.

She showed him her tongue. "Little boy." 

Anja had called him little one from the beginning, but since then Camus had caught up to her and was as tall as she was, even though he was two years younger. But that didn't stop her using the old nickname.

Camus wiggled his fists playfully at her. "You want to fight it out, _big_ girl?" he played along her banters.

Anja laughed at him and he joined her laughter. Forgetting the training once in a while really wasn't so bad, he thought.

It was a few hours later when they finally arrived at the cottage. The bear had held out longer than they would have thought and their good mood had disappeared, as they had approached the small wooden house. They knew that they were both in for mayor trouble and they were not really looking forward to it.

As they took the first wooden stair step, leading to the door of the cottage, said door opened groaning and Tros stepped under the threshold and welcomed them with a stare that was colder than the endless ice of Siberia.

Both children stopped in their tracks and faced the Aquarius Saint with a sinking feeling. 

"Where have you been?" The words of the tall man were directed at no one in particular and as icy cold as his eyes. Apart of that, he didn't let out a sign of emotion.

Anja bit her bottom lip and lowered her head. Camus eyed her for a minute, before he answered the Saints' stare with high held head.  "I am sorry maître. I left my training without permission. I knew that I shouldn't do that. It is my fault."

The face of the Saint didn't change but his eyes fixed the French boy. "At least you're taking the responsibility for your acts, but that doesn't excuse anything. You have a duty to fulfil. This training is not for your or my amusement. You want to gain a cloth? Others have had this wish. Others who had been ready to give everything for that. Even their life. 

You act like a playful child. You may be a human boy, but you don't have the right to act as such anymore. If you can't handle that, you can stop the training right now and leave Siberia."

At his last cold words, Anja's head shot up, and she glanced at Camus in fear. But the indigo-haired boy didn't flinch and still held Tros' hard eyes.

   
"I know that I did wrong and I will not do it again."

Tros still kept his eyes on him for a moment, before he spoke once more. "Go to your room now.  We will leave in a few minutes for your punishment."

Camus only nodded and disappeared into the house.

Anja followed him with her eyes until the door closed behind him. She felt bad for him, in prospect of the punishment her friend would be getting. She knew that she was to blame for the whole mess, and that her father would not be gentle with his pupil.

But as she looked back at her father, the feeling of being sorry for Camus changed into feeling sorry for herself. Her father's look was all but loving as he stared at her and she knew that the only reason why the Saint had sent Camus to wait in his room, was to scold her in quiet.

"What happened?" he growled.

Anja forced an excusing smile. "We just wanted to go see the polar bear."

"And whose idea was that?"

Anja felt the blood shoot to her head and she lowered her gaze again. "Mine. I'm sorry Papa. Please don't punish Camus. I talked him into it."

Tros' voice was still as icy as before. "Camus will be a Saint. As one, he should be putting his duty above anything. If he can be distracted or led from his responsibility that easily, he will never be a Saint, no matter how talented he is. You should know that by now. Camus isn't like you. He has other priorities than other human children his age. He exists only to protect the human race and Athena. I want you to keep your distance to him from now on. He can never have deep friendship or love. Nothing should taint a Saint, which will keep him from doing his duty. Not friends or family."

Anja could not stop the stinging feeling of tears, which threatened to fill her eyes. "Like you and me?" she whispered painfully.

"No Saint should have family. It is much too dangerous. It was a mistake I once made and which never should have happened."

At those coldly spoken words, Anja couldn't hold back her tears anymore and she felt them flowing down her cheeks. She lowered her eyes to the ground. No need that her father saw, how much his words had just hurt her. 

But as Tros continued, it was with a sad, almost inaudible voice. "But this was not my biggest mistake. Much worse than to have a daughter, is to love her as much as I do. I am sorry that I can't be the father you deserve Anja. And neither can I be the Saint I should, for the same reason. So I don't want Camus to go through the same that I did."

Hearing this, Anja's eyes wandered to her father again and she felt her yaw go slack in surprise. Never had he told her so openly how he felt. He, who hid his feelings all of the time behind a perfect mask. 

But on top of his words, he stepped close to her and held her gently by the shoulders, his eyes mirroring affection and regret.

"Do you understand child? Camus is destined to become one of the most powerful Saints this world has ever seen. But to be happy and truly fulfilled with his duty, he can't bond too closely with any human. One can either be a normal human, or a Saint. Never both."

Anja nodded miserably, biting her lower lip.

"And now go to your room, daughter. "

She lowered her head once more and disappeared silently into her room. 

Tros sighed, as she had disappeared in the house. What he would be doing now was not something he enjoyed, but it had to be. Camus was blessed by the Goddess. His talent could not be wasted. Tros had felt how Camus had used his Cosmo some hours ago and felt the panicked vibes tainting his pupil's aura. So he had teleported himself to its origin. 

There he had seen the children run from the bear. 

Ready to interfere, he had been more than astonished to see Camus confront the beast and use a technique that he had never taught him. Of course the attack had been far from perfect and hadn't held the bear for long, but it had shown Tros that his pupil was indeed not like any other child he had ever met. Tros was certain now, that Camus was not meant for the bronze cloth. He was destined for bigger things. He had the talent, and a Cosmo energy inside of him, which may even equal his own one day. But for that he would have to start to think like a Saint. Especially an Ice Saint.

He walked up the steps to the cottage and turned towards Camus' room. He didn't knock as he opened the door and stepped into the small area.

Camus stood by the tiny window, hands behind his back. He had his face towards the door, expecting his teacher with a hint of silent acceptance and even a small trace of fear in his eyes.

The boy was not stupid and knew that he was completely at the mercy of his teacher.  And he was aware why he would be punished. He was willing to carry all responsibility for his acts, like any true Saint and accept the punishment, the gold Saint had intended for him. 

But there was one thing Tros needed to do first.

He turned to the small nightstand and lifted the photo of Camus' mother. He heard the sharp intake of breath from the boy and looked at him coldly.

"You still keep the photo of your mother? I thought I told you to destroy it."

The boy narrowed his eyes in defiance. 

"It is my affair of what I keep. This photo is my property."

The stance of the boy didn't change, but his eyes dared him to do something to the picture.

"This Photo is the past. Your mother is dead. Your past is dead." 

Tros' hand with the photo started to glow in a cold white light as he activated his Cosmo. The paper in his hand became milky white, as it first got covered with a slim layer of frost before it froze completely. Tros closed the hand to a fist around it and destroyed the photo into dust.

"NO!" screamed Camus and advanced towards his teacher. "You had no right…"

Tros stopped the boy's words and forward movement by slapping him straight in the face. Camus' head jerked to the side and he lifted his hand to the now reddened right cheek, tears in his eyes.

"I have every right. You want to be a Saint and I will make sure that you will become a good Saint. From now on, you will stop your foolishness. You have to be as cold as the ice of these lands. No emotions must hinder you. All that will be important to you anymore is to be a Saint and serve Athena. You either do that or I will send you away on the spot. Do you understand?"

Camus stared in shock at his teacher. He felt so mad at Tros as he had never thought possible. How could the Aquarius Saint have done something like this? The photo was the only thing Camus had possessed. All that was still his.

"Come with me now!" Tros ordered, turning around and walking out of the room. Camus was still too shocked to react any other than to follow the gold Saint.

His cheek stun, but his mind felt still muffled and under shock, as he followed the Aquarius Saint out of the house and into the icy fields.

They walked for about half an hour, until the gold Saint halted at an icy cliff, which fell into the freezing cold ocean a few meters below. Camus had never really been bothered by cold, but the hard wind here stung his whole body with a cold he had never felt before.

"This is the boarder of one of the most dangerous parts of the ocean. More than one ship has found its grave in those dangerous waters.  The weather here is the harshest clime, that reigns over all Siberia. The sea is treacherous. Strong currents make it impossible to swim for the seals and bears and they never venture here. The air is so cold, and the winds so biting, that even the ocean is slowly frozen shut by it over the years. 

Even for a trained Saint, with exception of ice Saints, it is not pleasant to be here for a longer period of time."

The gold Saint studied him coldly. "In time, you will learn to use such a cold and the storms that reign here as one of your attacks, but right now, you don't have the power to do so."

Tros closed his eyes in concentration and Camus could see the white glow around his teacher, which was even colder than the wind, as the gold Saint activated his Cosmo. Intimidated, Camus wanted to take a step back, but found it impossible to move his feet. Shocked, his gaze wandered down and he saw a thick layer of ice climbing slowly up his legs, freezing him to the ground. Simultaneously, he felt the biting pain, penetrating his legs. With big alarmed eyes he stared back at Tros. 

"You will stay here tonight. I will come and free you in the morning. That means if you are still alive by tomorrow."

After having said this, his teacher turned and walked away without another look back.

Tros closed his eyes briefly as he walked away from his pupil. Camus didn't make a sound. He was not even trying to make him come back, and the Saint could not stop himself from feeling proud of the boy. Every ice Saint had to learn this lesson; to spend one night here in the storm called Diamond dust. But not before their fourth trainings year. 

His gaze wandered to the milky white sky above him. There would be such a storm tonight the signs stood all for it. Camus was not like any other pupil. And only this would give him the chance to survive such a test yet. Tros hoped that he would. It was necessary to punish him this way. Camus had to become hard and cold so he would be the perfect Ice Saint. Not like himself, hindered by love for another.

As Tros had disappeared from his sight, Camus clenched his fists as hard as he could. He felt the cold in his body and especially his legs, but for now, he could handle that pain easily. What was not so easy to ignore though, was the pain in his heart. He had expected to be punished, but the destruction of the photo had simply been cruel. And still, he was powerless to hinder his teacher to do what he wanted. He had soon understood that the life he was living now, was not about considering his person, but the ability, which he would possess to serve Athena. At first he hadn't understood the concept of the Saints and ancient Goddesses, then he had been tempted by the power he would possess; and a little later, he had wanted to impress Tros and earn the cloth to prove something to the gold Saint and himself too.

But still. The photo of his mother was the only thing telling him that he once had had a normal life. And that he once had been loved. Tros didn't love him. All he would ever been able to get from the Saint was respect. He really worked hard to achieve at least that. So why had the gold Saint destroyed the photo? Camus closed his eyes to fight back the tears, which threatened to flow down his face "Maman", he whispered and couldn't hold back the sob, which shook his body.

                                                      *****************************

It was early next morning, as Tros walked out to the place, where he had left Camus the evening before. The storm he had expected had been more violent than he would have thought. Even off the shore. He hadn't slept at all this night, fighting with himself, not to go rescue Camus. The boy had needed this lesson and any giving in from his part would have destroyed all efforts to nothing. Instead he had prayed Athena to protect the boy and let him find the strength to survive the night. 

He had heard Anja's silent sobbing in the neighboured room. After he had told her, what he had done to punish Camus last evening, Anja had screamed at him, cursing the Saints and their cruel rules. She had attacked him with her words, calling him a monster, but he had ignored her and left for his own room. 

Anja would never understand. He had to be hard to Camus, or the boy would be one of the first to die in the holy war. He knew that Camus would understand someday, if he survived long enough. Every Ice Saint had to learn to be cold and stand above everything human. He himself had failed. The accusations of his daughter had hit him hard, even though he had learned not to show his emotions. He was not perfect. But Athena needed perfect Saints. Especially her main guards, which were the gold Saints. Tros had never been able to be completely cold. He loved Anja and - even though he would never admit or show it - Camus. He knew that he would not be part of the holy war. He was more danger than help to Athena. But until a couple of years ago, he had known that he would have to suffice. Now he had other plans. If Camus was still alive. If he had survived this terrible storm, and if he had learned the lesson then he would be trained by Tros as his successor. The new Aquarius Saint. Camus would be the perfect warrior. Cold as ice and powerful like no other.

He reached the place at the shore and saw the silent figure from some distance away. Camus was still upright, but his head and shoulders hung limp. Unconsciously he hurried his step until he reached the boy. A fine layer of frost covered Camus' entire body and his skin looked pale and dead. Tros wasn't sure if he was still alive and lifted the boy's head gently with one hand under his chin. The skin under his touch was clammy and ice-cold, but he could see a flicker of movement under the closed eyelids of the boy. Camus had survived. He was half dead, but he had survived. 

"Thanks Athena", Tros whispered to the sky before he destroyed the ice around Camus feet with one good calculated punch. 

Instantly, Camus' knees started to buckle, as the ice didn't support them anymore. Tros moved fast, caught him and lifted him up in his arms. 

With a fast pace he walked back to the cottage. Camus was in bad shape and Tros held him a bit closer to his chest, trying to warm the boy with his own body heat.

He was grateful as he finally reached the cottage. He entered the door and was surprised by Anja, who had started a fire and laid out a nest of furs and covers at its side in the main room.

"Bring him here Papa. He must be frozen", she said in a neutral voice. 

Tros came closer and laid the boy on the floor, on top of the fur closest the fire before he stood again. Anja started right away trying taking off Camus' shirt. Tros observed her with a hint of amazement. His daughter seemed so calm and knew perfectly what to do. He was surprised at the gentleness and the normality she showed. In this moment, she didn't look like an eleven-year-old child. No. She reminded him much more of her mother, as she had been before her death.

He watched, as she struggled with the half frozen clothes and kneeled down on the other side of Camus. "Come on, Anja. I'll help you."

Together they got Camus out of his clothes and Anja went to fetch hot water, which she got from a big kettle, hanging above the flames in the fireplace.

She filled a bowl about half full and filled it up with cold water from a jug. Then she kneeled at Camus' side again, soaked a piece of cloth in the warm water and started to wash his face and shoulders, trying to stimulate the circulation and get some warmth back in the icy body. 

Tros got back on his feet again, seeing that his daughter seemed to know what to do. She was concentrated on Camus and talked soothingly to him, while she tended to him. The gold Saint observed them for a minute before he turned and left them alone. Camus was not awake yet, but Tros was grateful that Anja could help him get better. He didn't want Camus to think that his teacher cared for him more than it was his duty.

Anja stayed besides Camus for a long time, trying to get him warm again. And after about a half hour, she felt the warmth return to his chilled body and his skin finally started to take on a normal colour. 

Anja sighed relieved. After her father had told her that Camus would spend the night out by the sea, and when the great storm had hit this night, she had feared that Camus would not be able to survive this ordeal. Only the knowledge of his born talent to deal with the cold and his Cosmo had let her keep a bit of hope. 

After her father's words towards her in front of the cabin, she had been so happy. But then, when she had learned of what her father had done to Camus, she had again started to doubt of his ability to feel something towards the people around him, other than his stupid duty towards Athena, of which he talked so often. 

How could anyone treat a simple child so cruelly, as she had seen her father do to his pupils? Of course she knew that they needed to work hard, to attain the powers they used. And Tros had once told her, that there were Saints, who were even more cruel and demanding of their pupils than he was. To the point, that in years of training out of dozens of pupils, none had survived the first years. Anja could not understand how a Goddess, who was supposed to protect mankind and earth, could welcome, or even tolerate such behaviour. But the more she saw of the Saints, the more she felt disgusted by their methods. 

Her eyes fell back on Camus, who seemed to sleep peacefully now, only slight shivers running through his body occasionally. "Why are you doing this?" she asked sadly. It was not the first time she wished for her friend to leave this life and run away. Anja loved her father, and she enjoyed her time with Camus. But more than to suffer from being alone again, she knew that she would suffer from seeing him die. He was her best friend. The only real friend she had ever had. In the close by village were not many kids her age, and none of them could treat her without a certain respect and fear. She was after all the daughter of the legendary Aquarius Saint. She hated that. This was also part of the reason, why she didn't go to school with the village kids. The other reason was that her father wanted her to have a better education than what was taught at the provincial school. Tros himself was a very intelligent man and had gotten the best education possible by his own master. He had told her that all Saints were given that. Athena wanted only the best the human race could offer as her warriors. 

Movement besides her pulled her from her thoughts. Camus stirred and moaned slightly.

"Camus?" she asked, while she bent down to him, stroking a strand of his hair back. "Are you awake?"

The French boy moaned again without opening his eyes. "I'm cold," he whispered while a shiver racked his boy.

"I know", Anja soothed. "It will take awhile for you to feel warm again, but you will. Don't worry. Can you open your eyes?"

Camus eyelashes fluttered and then opened, revealing dark blue, pain filled eyes. 

"That's better", she smiled.

Camus gave her a weak humourless smile back. "I didn't think I'll survive."

"But you did. You're much too strong to be defeated by such a little storm", she tried to lighten the situation.

Camus didn't laugh about the joke. He turned is head to the other side, his eyes searching for the door, which led to Tros' room.

"Why did he do that?"

Anja sighed sadly. "Because of those stupid Saints rules. You know it. They don't consider that one applicant of a cloth may get killed."

Camus' head turned back and he looked at her again, his eyes watery. "That's not what I meant. I don't mind the thing with the storm. It was his right. But why did he destroy the photo of my mother."

Anja gasped shocked. "He destroyed the photo of your mother? Oh no. That's the only souvenir you had left of her."

Camus closed his eyes again and turned on his side, away from her, pulling the furs high up to his head, hiding his emotions from Anja.

The girl kept on studying him, with a stinging in her own heart. Camus didn't say another word, nor did he cry, but she had the feeling that something had been shattered in the other child's soul. And there was nothing she could do or say to help him. So she just sat there with slump shoulders


	3. Chapter 2

**TWO WEEKS LATER:**

Camus was woken earlier than usual this morning. Tros had been ordered to the Sanctuary in a letter and would be leaving in a little while and not come back for several days. 

Before that, he would give instructions to him and Anja. It was not the first time, he left them alone because his duty called him to the home country of their Goddess. But this time promised to be a bit longer than usual. Tros had told them that he would be away for almost a week, but without telling them the reasons for his departure. Anja and Camus were used to not being told much about the Sanctuary and what Tros did there. Camus knew that he was not yet ready, to be informed about it, and he suspected that Tros was protecting Anja by not telling her. The Saints were earth's defence, and sometimes they were sent to eliminate or stop dangers. And those dangers often came from other Saints. So they were sent to kill or be killed.

Camus got ready for the day fast and joined his teacher and Anja in the main room.

"So you know, what to do in my absence daughter. There should be enough food for the time I'm gone. Otherwise you can go to the village to get supplies." 

Anja nodded seriously.

"I told Anastasia to come see after you from time to time, to see if you need anything", Tros continued.

"But Papa. That's not necessary. Camus and I will get along just fine. I'm not a little girl anymore."

Tros gave her one of his rare smiles. "I know Anja. But I feel better, knowing that somebody looks out, so you won't mess up this whole place, while I'm gone."

Anja giggled, as her father ruffled her hair. Camus couldn't help but to smile a bit too. He still hadn't completely forgiven Tros for the destruction of the photo, but two days after he had been out in the storm, Tros had come to talk to him. Camus had still been weak, but on the way of recovering. Tros had entered his room and explained to him, what was expected of the cast of ice-Saints. He had told him that the emotions burned too hot in any human, so that no ice Saint could attain the great cold of their most powerful attack, if the emotions heated their soul. Camus had understood, but he was unsure if he could do that. He knew that Tros put a lot of hope in him, but he could not see how anyone could bury all feelings. Tros himself was not so cold as he showed on. He just hid it very well most of the time. 

No. Camus was sure, that Tros was wrong. Nobody could bury his emotions completely. 

He now at least understood Tros' actions, but he still could not approve of them and agree with his teacher on this. And he would prove it to his maître. He had loved his mother, but in a strange, respectful way, he loved his teacher just as much. And he would prove to him that he could become a great Saint, without loosing his emotions. 

Tros addressed him now, his face serious. "I will not tell you to train all the time. But you will train."

Camus nodded. He would not go against Tros' orders again. 

Tros threw them one last look, before he left the small house.

As soon as he was gone, Anja turned to Camus with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Finally free. What do you say, you want to come stroll the grounds with me?"

Camus shook his head. "No. Maybe later. I will spend some hours with training first."

Anja sighed exaggeratedly. "You're not gonna be the good little pupil and beat yourself up with training all the time, while Papa isn't here", she sulked.

Camus looked at her with a somber expression. "No not all the time. But I want to become the best Saint there is. There is something I need to prove to Tros."

"And what would that be?" Anja asked, now curious.

Camus didn't answer for a while, and then he simply changed the topic. "What do you want to do anyway?

"I will go visit Donut, Snowball and Flake."

"Snowball and Flake?"

Anja grinned at him. "The names I gave to Donuts pups."

Camus shook his head. "Why do you have to name everything after something. Can't you give them any normal names?"

"So you're coming or not?"

Camus seemed to think about it for a while. "You know what? Wait before you go to see them. I will train now, and then we can visit them together this afternoon."

"Great!" Anja exclaimed happily. "We'll have lots of fun this week, you'll see."

Camus grinned at her as well. "I doubt it. I'll have all hands full, keeping you out of trouble. Somebody has to keep an eye on you. You know."

"Smartass", she muttered.

Camus just laughed.

They ate breakfast together and were just putting the dishes away, when somebody rapped on the door. Camus looked at Anja questioningly. She shrugged her shoulders, as ignorant as him, to who might visit them yet.

"We better go to see who ventures out here at this time of the morning", Anja frowned and went to open the door. Camus, curious, followed her close by. 

She opened the door and was face to face to a stranger, who was clad in a thick fur coat, his hands covered in gloves just as thick and a hat and ski glasses on his head and eyes. 

As the girl opened the door, he startled, clearly taken aback. "Is your father here", he asked, as he had caught himself again.

"No, why?" answered Anja.

The man seemed to remember his manners suddenly and took off the glasses, which had until now hid his hard, green eyes.

"I was told that a man lives here, who knows the area very good, and I wanted to hire him to show me the surroundings."

"My father is gone for several days." Anja explained.

The stranger frowned. "And you two kids stay here all by yourself?"

"That is none of your business", Camus growled. Anja looked at him with raised eyebrows, at his unfriendly tone towards the stranger.

"There is an old friend of father's from the village looking after us from time to time", Anja hurried to explain. She didn't want to get into any trouble. The Sanctuary had lots of money to evade eventual problems, but they did not tell any outsiders the way, they treated the kids in training. No need to rise any suspicion if it could be avoided.

But the man didn't seem to think more about it and finally nodded.

"Anyhow. It's not my business. And I'm not here to interfere in things, which don't concern me."

"What do you want from my father anyway? Who are you?"

"My name is Andrej Dubwosky. I own a big oil company and we have heard that there are chances to find oil around here."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Dubwosky, but those lands are private property. Even if there is oil to find here, you will not be able to get to it. And there is no option to sale the land either."

"Oh. I didn't know that." Dubwoskys voice sounded disappointed, but his eyes were indifferent. "Than I think I better leave now."

"Yeah. Better you leave", Camus stated coldly.

The man nodded and turned to leave, but hesitated and turned again to face them. "Say, do you know, if there are any polar bears around here?"

Anja started to answer with a proud smile. "There are…"

"…No bears around here." Camus interrupted her, finishing the sentence differently than she had intended. At his words, Anja eyed Camus questioning, but Camus didn't leave Dubwosky out of his sight, staring at the man with obvious hostility.

"Well, I guess then I'll go now. Bye."

The man walked back to his motor sleigh, which stood a few meters in front of the cottage, surrounded by about ten thick clad men on identical motor sleighs. He mounted his vehicle, put the ski glasses back on and drove off, followed by his men.

After they had disappeared in a cloud of snow dust, Anja turned to Camus with a frown. "Why have you been so unfriendly with that man? It is rare enough that we get some divertissement. I could have showed him around a bit." Disappointment was heavily colouring her voice.

"I don't like this guy. Something isn't straight with this man."

Anja threw up her hands. "I don't believe it. You're being paranoid."

"And why did they carry guns when they were searching for oil? I didn't know, that you have to shoot that to get it."

"You can be so naive in your Saints thinking. Normal people can't freeze a polar bear to the ground. No one enters those grounds without protection, and walks out safely."

"And why didn't they carry any technical equipment with them? I don't understand much about oil, but I don't think you can find it under the ice and snow, without any equipment."

Anja sighed annoyed. "You're such a negative thinker. Maybe they just wanted to check out the lands now and get the equipment later."

  
Camus sighed. "Maybe you're right. I just didn't like that man."

"Of course I'm right. As always."

Camus rolled his eyes in annoyance. "I better go do something useful like training."

He turned and opened the door to leave.

"Don't forget to come back at noon. We want to go see the bears, remember?"

Camus turned and smiled at her. "Don't worry. I won't forget."

A few hours later, Camus came back trough the door.  "Are you ready to go?" Anja asked, practically bouncing. 

Camus startled. "Can I please come in first?"

"Why coming in, when we will depart right away?" she grinned.

"But I want to eat something first, and take a break. I've trained all morning", Camus protested.

Anja didn't listen to him and threw him a paper wrapped package, which he caught with one hand.

"You can eat while we walk. I made you some sandwiches. And for the break. It was your own idea to train. I've been waiting all morning, being bored to death. Now I want some fun. Maybe we'll go to the village afterwards. What do you think?"

Camus made a disapproving sound, but followed the girl, who was now walking out the door. "It was your father's idea to train, remember?"

"So what? If you want to become a Saint, you should be better than to quit after a bit of training. Now stop complaining and come." 

Camus sighed, but caught up with her and started to fish for one of the sandwiches in the paperbag, while he walked besides her.

They were chatting amiably, as they reached the place where Donut had her cave. Soon she would start to wander with her pups. Since there was enough game around here to find, and she often found rests of food from the village people, she could afford to stay a bit longer.  Also she would hardly ever wander too far away from such good hunting grounds.

"Shhh be quiet now", Camus whispered, as they drew near. "I don't want a repetition from last time."

Anja threw him a vicious grin but didn't say anything. 

They took cover behind their small hill and glanced down to the cave. Nothing moved and the cave seemed deserted.

"Oh no. She's not here", Anja complained disappointed.

"Maybe we should have called ahead for a reservation", Camus said so seriously that Anja started to giggle.

Camus stood and grinned at Anja. "Seems like your polar bear doesn't want to sit around and wait for us."

Anja got to her feet too. "Then we can as well go to town. I got some money from Papa with me and we could go get some groceries at Anastasias shop. I'm sure she'll give us some sweets again."

Camus beamed at her. The shops owner, Anastasia, had known Tros since he had been trained here himself, and felt like a grandmother towards his daughter. The old lady had been the one to baby-sit Anja when she had been too little to stay alone, whenever her father had to train or go to the Sanctuary. She had always been the only one in the village who had not treated Anja or Tros like an outsider. And Anja knew, that Anastasia had grown very fond of Camus as well in the past two years.

The two children started to walk off in direction of the village. They hadn't walked more than ten minutes when Camus saw something on the ice some distance ahead. He stopped abruptly. "What is that?"

Anja followed his gaze. "What?"

Camus pointed at a black spot on the ice. "Over there."

"Let's go take a look", she grinned and started to walk in the pointed out direction.

As they approached, the dark spot became something big, laying on the smooth surface of the ice. Also it turned out to be red, not black. But still it was not recognisable as something specific. 

Only a few meters before the big, bulking thing, did the two children see a form in the mass. Camus felt the blood leave his head, as he finally knew, what he was looking at. He suddenly felt dizzy and had to fight the bile, rising in his throat.

"Oh my God", Anja whispered in a choking voice. "This is -- Oh my God", she repeated.

Camus walked around what he recognized as the bloody skinned corpse of a big animal, without doubt the remains of a polar bear. A big pool of blood surrounded the cadaver.

"Please Camus. Tell me, this isn't Donut", Anja asked with a chocking voice.

Camus squatted down before what had once been the head of the great animal.  After a Second he raised again with a start. He felt sick, at the obscenity he witnessed there.

"I don't think so. It could very well have been another straying bear. I mean – there is no trace of her cubs. If it was Donut, her pups would have to be here somewhere, no?"

Anja nodded sadly.

Camus gave her an encouraging smile before he took a look at the surrounding area. The Ice here was covered by a thin layer of snow, stamped down and displaced by whoever had killed the bear.

He turned, as he felt a presence behind himself. Anja had approached him and stood now a few steps behind him, her eyes hefted at him, refusing to wander to the carcass of the bear. "Who could do something like that?" she asked.

"Probably some poachers. They were only interested in the skin. And I do have an idea, who those poachers are."

"You mean the men who came to the cottage this morning?"

Camus nodded. "I asked myself before, why they only carried guns as equipment, and he did ask for polar bears." He reached his hand out to her. "Come. Let's go to the village. There we can tell somebody, who will call the authorities."

Anja stiffened. "No", she said with determination. "We are gonna get the sleigh and then we are going to search for them. I don't want to occur to Donut what has happened to this bear."

Camus sighed. "Those men came almost certainly with a ship, and we're not permitted to go in town and leave the cottage for so long. I promised to train."

Now Anja became real furious. "TRAIN?!" she yelled. "You still want to follow those stupid Saints rules when there are poachers out there? Next time they could as well get Donut and her cubs. We can't let that happen."

Camus sighed. Anja was very upset, and therefore lashing out, but he didn't want a fight with her this time. "Look Anja. Those rules may be stupid for you, but they are vital for your father and me. If I disobey him again I will be punished. And Donut will not be helped. We go tell the authorities. They are pretty severe with poachers and will lock them away before nightfall."

Anja bit her lower lip. She was worried about her polar bear, but she couldn't stand that Camus would again have to go trough such a punishment as he had two weeks ago. This time he may not survive it."

She nodded sadly. "Okay. But let's go tell them right away."  She took his still extended hand and let herself be led towards the village. She swallowed a sob, as she thought that that corpse could very well have been Donut. Besides her father and Camus, the female bear was somebody she considered a dear friend. Even though she had never come close to the wild animal, it was one of the things that had become important to her. Often had she gone to watch the bear, when her father and later Camus had left her alone to go to train. Thank God there were no pups around, so they could be certain that it wasn't her.

They hadn't walked more than a few meters, as Camus stopped dead in his tracks. Anja, still in thoughts, startled at his sudden stop and gazed up at him questionably. But the look of pure horror on Camus' face, made her blood freeze. The French boy was looking straight ahead, his eyes wide and his face had lost all colour. With narrowed eyes, Anja turned to see what had upset her friend so much. 

A bit further away, the snow had not been touched, apart from the traces of several motor sleighs and the trace of bear paws in the direction of the cadaver.  Several motor sleighs must have chased the bear, before it was shot. But what chilled her blood was the trace of two smaller sets of paw prints close to the big one. Camus didn't say a word. And it wasn't necessary either. The traces were clear enough. The dead bear had been fleeing with two small cubs. Anja felt the surroundings spin and her legs threatened to give in under her. A sob escaped her and she turned back to the dead bear. "Donut", she whispered in horror.

"NO!" she screamed and turned to run back to the cadaver. But Camus didn't let go of her hand and held her back.

"Let me go!" she shouted. 

Camus didn't ease his grip on her, and even put his other hand on her shoulder to hold her back. "No, don't. There is nothing you can do for her. You are only going to make it harder on yourself", Camus whispered painfully.

Anja struggled a moment longer against his hold, before the fight left her completely and she stood there, trembling slightly, trying to hold back her tears.

Camus stepped forward, pulled her towards his shoulder and held her tightly. "I'm so sorry Anja."

Anja tried to stay strong, but as Camus held her, his voice full of pained compassion, she lost her fight and begun to cry, hanging onto Camus. "It's Donut", she whispered under sobs. "It's Donut", she repeated, "They killed Donut."

Camus held her as close as possible, fighting his own tears and barely succeeding. He knew what the bear had meant to Anja. She had considered the animal something akin to a big sister. He didn't know what to say to ease her sorrow, but her pain hurt him too.  So he just stood there and let her cry on his shoulder.

After a while she seemed to calm a little and her sobs weakened.

"We get them", Camus promised. "They won't get away so easily, I swear."

He felt Anja nodding slightly against his shoulder and pushed her back softly, holding her at arms length, looking deep into her tear-filled eyes. 

"They will pay. I swear it to you."

"But Papa…", she asked, fearfully that he may still change his mind.

"We'll deal with Tros later, but whoever did this, made a big mistake. They hurt somebody close to me, and this I will not tolerate."  He didn't tell, whom he was referring to. The bear or Anja.

Camus laid his arm around Anja's shoulders as they made their way back to the cottage, Anja leaning into his hold.

When they arrived at the small house, they wordlessly got the rest of the money Tros had left them and some clothes to change. Anja wrote a few words for Anastasia, to tell her where they went, leaving out the why. They would not drive through the village, so they didn't get into trouble with the old lady. Camus took one of Anja's coats, so he wouldn't raise any suspicions walking around in a T-Shirt. After closing the front door, they sorted the motor sleigh out of the shed.

Camus took the front seat, Anja mounting behind him, holding onto him with a strong grip, burying her face into his back. 

As they drove trough the snow, Camus still could hear soft sobs coming from his friend.

It was a long, silent ride, until they arrived in front of the first houses of town. Camus slowed the sleigh and steered it to the small shed, belonging to them. Here they left the vehicle each time they needed to come to town.

They got off the sleigh and stored it in the shed, before they started to walk towards the shore.

"Do you think they killed Snowball and Flake too?", Anja finally asked with a subdued voice.

"I have no idea. But if they did, we would probably have seen their bodies too. Maybe they took the young ones alive to sell them to a zoo or something like that."

"I hope you're right", Anja said softly.

Camus threw her an encouraging look. "We'll get them, and if Flake and Snowball are still alive, we'll free them. Always remember. We're a team and nobody can take it up with us."

At his confident words, a slight, sad smile appeared around her lips.  "And what are we gonna do now?"

"We go to the port. I guess that they either came by helicopter or ship. If it is by ship, we will see it right away; otherwise we'll ask around. Newcomers are rare here, apart from the monthly ship. The strangers must have been noticed by the people around."

They made their way to the port and as soon as they stepped out between the last of the houses, they saw the big freighter, towed to the docks.

"I guess this is it", Camus said. "Let's go check it out." 

He hurried over to the freighter, where three sailors were talking.

  
"What ship is this?" he asked them, trying hard to appear just like an ordinary, curious child of nine.

The sailors looked down at him with a disapproving frown on their faces. "This is no place for kids. Get lost boy."

Anja, who had heard the conversation, hurried up to him. "I excuse myself, sirs, but my little brother is too curious. He is dreaming to become a sailor one day. So he's bothering every sailor he meets with stupid questions."

Camus eyed her a bit annoyed about the 'little' comment but caught up on the act.

"Yes. For me, the sailors are the best, strongest and most courageous people in the world." Camus tried to sound as convincing as possible when in reality he had to work hard, not to sneer or laugh.

But it seemed to work, for the expression on the men's faces turned from annoyed to flattered. 

"We surely are, kid," one of them beamed at him. "If you want to become a sailor, you will need to work hard. Not everybody is cut to do such a tough job. You will have to be strong and not feel either the cold or storm. " He leaned down a bit and made a face as if he would tell him a very big, impressive secret. "You may even be forced one time or another to swim in those arctic waters, with only a thin diving suit as protection."

Camus looked at the sailor with mock astonishment, clearly enjoying himself. "But wouldn't a man die in this cold?"

The sailor looked at them with self-sufficient eyes and proud voice. "Like I said. This job is only for strong men."

"Whom does this ship belong to?" Anja asked seriously. 

"To the Cerberus-oil cooperation", the man answered after a split second of hesitation.

"And do you work on this ship?" she asked again.

The man nodded.

"Could you show us around?" Camus asked.

The sailor exchanged a quick glance with his companions, before he addressed the two children again. "I don't think my boss will allow that."

"Why, has he something to hide?" Anja asked somewhat defiantly.

"No, of course not", the sailor answered a little bit too quickly. "I mean. It is just dangerous on a ship for two children", he caught himself.

"We can talk to our boss. If you come back in an hour, we can give you an answer then", one of the other sailors threw in.

"Okay. We come back in an hour", Anja answered and walked off, followed by Camus. 

                                                       ************************

As soon as they were out of earshot, the first sailor turned to his companion. "What got into you giving them hope to visit the ship. If they get too close to certain areas, they may endanger our mission here."

"We can't raise any suspicion, you know that very well. Otherwise they may endanger the mission as well."

The third sailor sighed loudly, "We better go ask the boss. It will be his decision and thus his responsibility too."

The two others nodded and together they mounted the big ship.

                                                    ***************************

Camus and Anja walked until some houses covered them. The French boy gazed over at Anja, grinning. "Self-sufficient Idiots. They are as stupid as they are big. I wish I could show them what it means to be able to tolerate some cold."

"You should freeze them through," Anja hissed. "It's all they deserve."

Camus sighed. "I agree, but I'm not allowed to use my powers against simple humans out of the Saints order."

"Those are no normal humans. They are monsters", Anja spat.

"Still, I can't use my power as a Saint against them and hurt them with it. And you know it."

"For once, this Saint bullshit would be good for something and you can't even use it. This sucks", she snorted.

Camus smiled at her with sympathy. "I know. But we will get done with them without me using my powers. I'm not allowed to use my Cosmo to hurt people, but with material it's different. I know they are hiding something, and if they don't show us around, we force our way inside that ship."

Anja nodded. "And I know what they hide. Those Idiots will pay for what they did."

They waited for the said hour, walking trough the streets in silence. After the time had passed, Anja seemed to have calmed down pretty much, only a furious Glimmer in her eyes was revealing how upset she still was. But Camus figured that it was a good thing, she could deal with the sadness by turning it into anger against someone. If they could make sure those poachers were put behind bars, she would feel like she had revenged Donuts death.

As they approached the ship once more, the sailor who had spoken to them earlier, stood at his old place, sided by the man, who had introduced himself as Andrej Dubwosky at the cottage.

Camus felt Anja stiffen besides him as she saw the man and he could practically feel the hate she radiated towards the man.

"Relax Anja", he tried to calm her down. "We have to play the act for now if we want to have him punished and the cubs freed."

Anja nodded, taking a deep breath to calm herself before they reached the two men.

"So you will show us around?" Camus asked as they stood before them, looking only at Dubwosky, and ignoring the sailor. The boss of the so-called oil-company was now wearing a slightly lighter coat, and no hat covered his hair. The man himself looked as much as the boss of an oil-company as Tros looked like a lawyer. The man in front of them had a wild red beard, unruly curls and some slight wrinkles around his green eyes. The guy made Camus think more of a Trapper he had seen the old western movies, back in France.

Dubwosky raised one eyebrow, as he recognized the two children. "You? What are you two doing here in town?"

"We come here quite often, to get supplies, not available in the village. And when we saw your big ship, we wanted to ask if we could take a look at it."

The man studied them intently for a while, before he nodded hesitantly. "All right. I will show you around personally. But only under the condition that you stay close to me at all times."

"Why? Afraid that we could break anything or maybe see some big secret?", Anja all but spat.

Camus threw her a warning look. If she didn't get a hold on her emotions for a while, she would spoil everything.

But Dubwosky didn't seem offended by her sharp tone and smiled at her, somewhat amused.

"No. But it can be dangerous on board if you get lost. There are big machines down there and you could get hurt easily."

Camus observed the man closely. Dubwosky's answer had come smoothly and not so hesitantly as the sailor's answers earlier, as they pushed him in the corner by their questions, but still, Camus was certain that the man was lying to them.

"Okay", he agreed. We'll stay behind you."

He wasn't sure if they would be doing that, but it would be the smartest thing to check the situation first and think about their further actions later. The only problem would be, if Anja would lose it and not stick to the plan.

Dubwosky turned and lead them up the gangway onboard the ship. Camus - who had himself travelled on a freighter, wasn't too urged to see one of those ships again, and Anja only had her hateful gaze glued on Dubwoskys back. But at least she tried to hide her open hostility, each time he turned back to them. Dubwosky showed them some parts of the ship, but Anja and Camus were looking hard at the things he didn't show them. However the ship didn't seem suspicious. Apart the fact, that Camus could nowhere find the brand name of Cerberus-cooperation, or even anything that proved the ship belonged to an oil-company. 

In the contrary. This ship looked rather like the freighter he had arrived on here two years ago. 

"Can we go see the cargo bay?" he asked their leader.

Dubwosky shook his head. "No. Too dangerous. The sailors are in the process of shifting our supplies right now. But I can show you the bridge."

Camus exchanged a knowing look with Anja. Of course they wouldn't be let in the cargo bay, for there would very probably the poached animals and skins be stored. Anja clenched her fists tightly, trying hard to hold her anger at bay at the thought of Donut and her pups, who would be down here too, and Camus lay one hand soothingly on her shoulder. She calmed a bit and nodded to him, assuring him by that, that she would control herself. Then the two followed Dubwosky again, who had already turned and walked the way further down, not seeing their silent communication.

Dubwosky led them to the bridge and as they reached the big room, Camus clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. The ship itself looked like an old freighter, but the bridge was a modern control-centre, with monitors, computers and about seven men sitting in front of them, reading and exchanging data.

"What do you need all the computers for?" he asked.

"Those computers are needed to calculate the most probable spots, where there may be oil to find. As you may know, a lot of money is involved in the oil-business. If you want to have a chance to succeed, you have to be prepared as good as possible.

Camus stared at the other man with big eyes. That was the biggest bullshit he had ever heard in his life. Okay, he was no expert, but there was no way a computer would find any oil. Otherwise, all companies would search like this. But the lie had come so smoothly over Dubwoskys lips, that it showed the man was used to lie. And a lot.

He certainly thought the kids were naïve or stupid. Camus was neither one, but he didn't say a word. But all he had seen here on the ship had hardened his assumption into certainty, that those were the poachers. And now he also knew what they would do next.

"Mr. Dubwosky. I thank you very much, for the tour on your ship, but it will be evening soon and we have to get home before night or our father will be furious."

Anja eyed him questionably, but didn't protest. She trusted him enough to know, he was not cutting short the tour for nothing.

"I thought your father was away?" Dubwosky asked in a suspicious voice.

"He had to come home earlier than we thought", Anja said fast.

"All right. Then I'll show you off the ship."

"That's all right. We'll find our way alone", Anja answered hastily.

"No, You're under my responsibility as long as you're on this ship and I don't want to have any trouble if something happens to you."

The man started to walk them back down the ship. Of course he wouldn't leave them alone of the ship, Camus thought. Would have been too easy this way. But they would find another way to come back on board and take a closer look around. 

After Dubwosky had walked them back down to the port and had disappeared inside his ship again, Anja addressed Camus. "What is your plan?"

"We wait for the night, and then we will go check out the cargo bay. When we find the prove we need, we'll inform the authorities. And then we will hurt Dubwosky. People like him are not much impressed by the police. With the equipment he had on the bridge, he must be quite wealthy. He would be out of prison very soon and go on poaching somewhere else. No, people like him are hit by their wealth. I'll make sure that this ship will not carry any dead animal anymore. I'll sink it."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"If we find what we are searching for tonight, we'll put the wheels in gear, so the people are arrested tomorrow morning at latest. Tomorrow night, I'll dive under the ship and freeze a hole in it. Big enough to sink it, but small enough, to leave anybody still on board enough time to escape. But that stupid poacher will loose his proud ship for good", Camus explained excitedly.

He glanced at Anja, expecting her to be as enthusiastic about his plan as he was himself, but his friend just nodded sadly her acceptance.

At her still subdued demeanour, Camus felt his own excitement leave him. "I know that no matter what we'll do, we can't bring Donut back. But we can at least avenge her death."

Anja faced him, forcing a sad smile. "Oh Camus, don't worry. I really appreciate all you're doing. It is just too fresh and simply looking at this man makes me mad and sad at the same time. I'm just happy that you're with me."

Camus smiled encouraging at her. "What else are friends for? I will always be here for you."

Anja's smile grew a bit broader and lost some of the sadness. She stepped forward, taking Camus in a tight hug. "Thank you", she whispered in his ear, before she let go of him.

"Let's go wait for the night somewhere, okay?"

She nodded and together they wandered off to find a restaurant to spend the next hours.

                                                *****************************

It was already dark, when two small shadows stole themselves to the port.

Camus and Anja sneaked close to the ship and hid themselves behind a big crate from the single guard, who stood in front of the Gangway.

"That's the final proof", Camus whispered. "If they put a guard up, they must hide something."

"What are we going to do now?" Anja whispered back. "There's no way to sneak around that guard."

Before she could react, Camus had left the cover of the crate and strolled towards the guard openly, his arms easily crossed behind his back and whistling a tune.

"Who is there?" the sailor boomed, as he caught sight of him. Camus recognised the same sailor, to which they had talked to this afternoon. As he came closer, the man seemed to recognize him too.

"You? What are you doing here at this time of the night?"

"I forgot to ask you something about a sailor's resistance."

The man scowled at those words. "And you come out here at this time to ask me something."

Camus nodded.

"All right", the Sailor answered somewhat confused. "What do you want to know?"

"It's a secret. You have to lean down, so I can whisper it in your ear."

The sailor was now really confused, but he complied and leaned down to the boy.

"I just wanted to know, how resistant you are, if I hit you here." While he spoke, Camus raised his hand and hit the sailor hard in the neck. The big man's eyes opened wide at the unexpected pain for a split-second, before he fell to the floor like a stone and stayed there unconscious.

Anja hurried over to her friend. "Very effective", she stated coldly. "Lets go inside now." 

The two friends ran up the gangway and jumped on the deck of the ship.

"Do you know, where the cargo bay is?" she whispered.

Camus shook his head. "No. We'll have to search for it. But after the tour Dubwosky did with us, we know where it is not. Let's go inside and search for it. The guard should be out cold for some time."

They hurried over to the first door visible and crossed the short distance towards it. 

Camus took the handle and threw a sideways look at Anja. "Pray that it's not locked." 

Anja nodded and Camus took a deep breath and pushed the handle of the door down. The door didn't move. "Zut," Camus swore in his mother tongue. "Wait. I'll try to break it by freezing it. Hopefully I'm good enough for that yet."

He reached forward, but Anja stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Maybe there's no need for you to exhaust yourself yet by using your Cosmo. I have an idea."

She turned and hurried back to the gangway, where she ran down to the port and disappeared from Camus' view. He looked questionably at the spot, where she had disappeared. What did she want to do? But he didn't have to wait for long, since she reappeared only moments after she had disappeared. She hurried over to him and showed him a set of keys on a metal ring with a grin on her face. 

"It was more than probable that the guard had his own keys of the ship." 

She sounded quite proud of herself and Camus answered her grin with a wide smile of his own. He was happier for seeing her smile again, than for the keys.

Anja inserted the first key into the lock, but it didn't fit. She took another, with the same result. Camus already started to doubt that they had the right keys, when the fourth let itself be inserted and turned easily. With a sigh of relief, she pushed the door open, withdrew the key ring again and stepped inside. Camus followed her. 

They found themselves again in a small hallway. 

"And now?" Anja whispered.

"Lets go search for stairs. I guess that the cargo is stored deep down in the ship."

"Sounds logical. I just hope we're not catching the wrong door, stepping into any sleeping quarters."

They travelled through the maze of corridors, having no clue what to look for.

"That's insane", Anja hissed after some time. "We have no idea where we are."

"You want to give up yet?" Camus, who had started to get annoyed too by the fruitless search, answered a bit too sharply.

"You were the one with this great plan, remember?" Anja spat back.

Camus wanted to answer something angrily, just as a booming voice behind them made their hearts skip a beat in fear.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON MY SHIP?"

Dubwosky's angry voice filled the whole hallway, echoing back from the narrow gangway.

Slowly, the two kids turned to face the furious, big man. But what threw their looks was the pistol, the red haired man had pointed at them.


End file.
